I've just returned from a half term holiday where I staggered my way through TWO Barbara Pyms. Thought that I should acquaint myself with her as she seems to be held in such high esteem and Virago have seen fit to deck out her books in new chick-lit-style covers
. Also thought that it would be entertaining, quirky, witty, light holiday reading.
Instead .... what tedious, depressing drivel. I 'get' that she is supposed to document the mundane and the trivial, but not a sodding thing happened in either book apart from spinsters yearning after unavailable men (usually clergy) and endless dreary meals and teas and rhapsodising about the church.
Jane Austen? Not